


Sleepy

by BrittaR (Taaya)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Mornings, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 20:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15648522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taaya/pseuds/BrittaR
Summary: Reader isn't exactly a morning person. Thankfully there's somebody to help.





	Sleepy

You tried to open your eyes but failed. As always, you sighed, blindly inching your hand to where the damned button on the wall had to be. You knew you could switch off the bloody alarm clock per hand, the button was right next to the one to switch off ventilation. A safety net for crewmen who woke up with no voice or who’s species never had a voice to begin with, and could not demand the computer to stop beeping. Or for people like you who could not articulate any coherent sentence at freaking 6am in the morning. It probably would have been the same if it actually were 2pm or 10pm, if you had any other shift then alpha, but the sound of having to get up at 6am made all the psychological difference.

Just a few more centimeters, you told yourself, shifting your hand closer and closer to the position where this freaking button had to be.  
You landed on the floor, fallen out of your bed, before you even came close to it. Again. That happened at least three times a week and for the love of all deities of Federation planets you had no idea how that was possible. The button didn’t move from one morning to the other and certainly your arms weren’t any longer on some days then on others. Still on some days you could reach the button from your bed and on others you got yourself hurt falling down while trying to reach it.

The beeping stopped, finally. Thank god, you wanted to say, but all you managed was a deep groan. You hated mornings.

Thanks to the pain you were finally awake enough to open your eyes a little so you tried to make your way to the bathroom.

You slammed against the door frame. Nothing unusual either. And it didn’t hurt that badly, you were way too slow to make the impact a critical one.  
The sonic shower was great. You could rest against the wall of the cubicle and close your eyes, so there was no danger of further injuries.

But then you had to get out of the bathroom and dress and once again you fell down. Why had the uniform to be a single piece of cloth? A shirt and a skirt, that would have been great. But no, they had to make it a dress, making it harder to pull it on, especially when tired. You had lost your balance trying to shove your leg in the opening. Again. Just like every freaking other day. And then there was the zipper on the back. You always injured your arm trying to reach it.

With a sigh you gave up. „Spoooock?“

You jumped when his voice was way closer than you had assumed. „Again?“, he just asked. He knew the drill. Living with you was an adventure of its own, especially in the morning.

He zipped up your dress and gave you cool aids for your bruises, all the while glancing at you with his signature mixture of non-amusement and non-exasperation, because he was a Vulcan and they didn’t feel such emotions, right? As if!

Spock was still wearing his meditation robes. How he managed to get up even two hours earlier to meditate and then help his wife survive you would never know, but you loved him for it.

Now he quickly undresses and then puts on his uniform as well. If only you would not be too tired to truly compute the information your eyes provide you with. Spock undressed. But in the morning you never could feel glad about having the privilege to see him in his naked state. In the morning you just wanted coffee. Preferably in a hypo directly infused into your veins.

„Now, shall we?“, Spock’s dark voice asks you and two fingers search for yours. Both in a kiss and a gesture that you are his. And he is yours.  
You nod and you both turn towards the door. Breakfast was waiting for you in the mess hall. But while Spock made it through, you ran against the frame. Head first. Spock arched a brow as if he wanted to ask ‚Really? Again?!‘, but carried you down towards sick bay without a comment. You still made it in time for your shift. You always did.  
But from that day on Spock had enough. If you simply could not function before you had coffee and toast, he would make sure that you got both before you so much as moved a single toe in the morning. He wanted his wife in one peace and not speckled with blue bruises, thank you very much.


End file.
